Angels of Death
by Sir Pugsly III
Summary: One battle of the 51st Royal Infantry.


The life of an Imperial Guardsman is riddled with near death experiences, bullet wounds and energy weapon burns. This was no exception.

The squad stood hunkered down behind the burning husk of a Lemon Russ MBT, the Executioner-class plasma cannon still spewing out the occasional bolt of super-heated ionized gas. We were prepared to die, as always, but with our own deaths we were going to bring as many of the heretical bastards with us as we could.

The sergeant was yelling into his head piece, something about the commissar setting up a defensive line directly behind us and to hold our ground against all offensives. We weren't alone of course, but only having the suppressive support of a heavy weapons squad set up about fifteen meatres to our left there was no way we could hold back a true attack.

In the distance we could see a Defiler and several Chaos dreadnoughts forming a battle line getting ready to charge. This would be their third attempt to push us back and gain ground towards the stronghold. We would hold them back at all costs. We could do no less.

Let me elaborate, I am Corporal Damien Anders, of the 51st Royal infantry. We were stationed on this god forsaken border world to protect against all foes of the imperium, human and xeno. This inherently meant the Chaos horde that was beating down our front door.

We were outnumbered, a first for our unit, and out gunned. The Chaos were without number, for whenever a heretic or Chaos space marine fell, it would be dragged back into the warp, only to be spat back out at the dark portal where ever they have summoned it, to fight again.

We were prepared for the worst, and that's what we got. The yelling started and the dreadnoughts charged towards us, heretics by the thousands at their heels ready to tear apart every living thing that crossed their path.

Luckily for us, and the heavy weapons squad, the battlefield was a cityscape, meaning the heretics had to stay in our line of sight up the street. This also meant that there was nowhere the bastards could hide from the assault-cannon fire from where we were.

"IN COMING!" The Sergeant yelled as the horde came into firing range. This call being instantly answered by the auto-cannon buzzing to life. From other streets and alleyways came other assault-cannons and lazguns popping in and out of life.

The heretics ran without regard for their own lives, just wanting the end of the guardsmen at the end of their charge. We were lucky it seemed. Only maybe three squads worth, thirty or so men, were running at them being flanked by the defiler.

By the time they reached the effective range of our rifles there were none left. The defiler on the other hand wasn't even being dented by the assault-cannon. Noticing this, the sergeant made the decision that would ultimately end his life.

"CHARGE!" Without thinking we obeyed. Jumping from our cover we charged the six legged harbinger of death.

Within seconds we were numbered from twenty four, to fourteen from the onslaught of the defiler. We reached its legs and unloaded our rifles into the weak points on the legs and chassis.

The defiler just ignored every shot, screaming like a banshee it continued to kill and maim the other guardsmen in the squad. This number included the late sergeant, who took the full blast of the main cannon.

"Run, to the buildings, we'll gain the advantage!" Still not one to disobey the order, even if it was from an equal.

Running under fire to the nearest apartment complex and diving inside, I took a head count. Four guardsmen left. Damn.

Just as that thought cleared my head, the claw of the defiler burst through the wall and tore out the support beam for that side of the building. The building groaned and I knew how to end this without dying, a rare end for a guardsman but still.

"Get to the other end of the building and wait for me!"

"And what are you going to do?"

"Kill this bastard, now go!" Without another word they ran out the back door and out of sight.

"Come on you mindless damn spider!" I jumped into the window in front of the support for the wall. Just as planned the beast launched its clawed arm forward to mutilate me; instead it grabbed the support and ripped it apart.

This is when the wondrous imperial building style was put to good use. As the support came apart, so did the walls. And the rest of the building. Running as fast as I could among the falling debris and avoiding bolter fire from the doomed defiler I tried to get clear of the falling building.

I wasn't fast enough it seemed. The building came down and a chunk of concrete landed on my lower back, severing my spine and disabling both my legs. The defiler was buried under several tons of metal and stone. And I was left to bleed to death slowly under a boulder.

Just as I thought my luck couldn't get any worse the wall across from me exploded, when the dust cleared one of the other chaos dreadnoughts was standing triumphant, drenched in the blood of heretics and other guardsmen.

It took notice of me lying pitifully on the ground, casually walked over, and laughed a crazed and blood soaked laugh. It raised its deformed metal foot above my head…and it seemed like the world came to an end.

The world disappeared in a cloud of dust. The sound of crunching metal and yielding stone. Then the dust cleared and a red suit appeared. The Space Marines have arrived, as the angels of death among the galaxy. They live up to their title in full.


End file.
